


it drove me wild

by asael



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Future Fic, M/M, Riding, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:59:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6715426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asael/pseuds/asael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He works too hard, he knows that. It’s always been a part of who he is, a part of Adam Parrish, from their early days at Aglionby together until now. But these days he can balance it better, can devote time to the Barns and Ronan and, sometimes, magic. But the balance tilts, and those are the days he needs this. Mild TRK spoilers, mostly just smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it drove me wild

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Rae for the inspiration and Kels for the support. Title is from a Tegan and Sara song, which doesn't have much to do with anything but hey, you try thinking of a good title for a fic that's 90 percent porn.

Adam Parrish loves his job, but like anyone, some days he can barely stand it.

He speeds partway home, and even he’s not sure if it’s because he’s picked up Ronan’s bad habits or if it’s just because he wants to get home as soon as he can. He’s already worked through dinner, through the sunset. He texted, so Ronan knew not to wait up for him, and he made do with crappy takeout, but now he just wants to be home.

He’s keyed up and stressed, and he has to go back tomorrow, and he could have slept at the office but there’s nothing like home. There’s nothing like the Barns, and Ronan, the calm it brings him.

He thinks he’s going to need a little more than just _home_ tonight, though.

The house is quiet when he gets home, but there’s a light on in the master bedroom. Adam toes his shoes off at the door, leaves his briefcase and his jacket there for the next day, and heads upstairs.

Ronan is sitting on the edge of the bed, taking his boots off, when Adam comes in. He looks up, and the lines on his brow even out and disappear. Adam knows he doesn’t like it when Adam stays at work so long, that he’s always happier when Adam is here - home at the Barns with him - but they’ve managed it well enough. They don’t fight about it anymore. Ronan’s okay as long as Adam will always come back, and Adam’s okay as long as he can come back.

He stands, kicks his boots to a corner of the room, and comes to kiss Adam hello. It’s a soft kiss, verging on sweet, or as sweet as Ronan Lynch can manage. 

Adam likes it, but it’s not what he wants.

“Hey,” Ronan says, like he saw Adam five minutes ago instead of early this morning.

“Hey,” Adam says. “Is Opal asleep?”

“Yeah,” Ronan says, and he looks more interested now, more like he thinks he knows where this is going, even though Adam has only just walked in the door. “She was pissed you weren’t here for dinner, but she went to bed.”

“I’ll apologize tomorrow,” Adam says, and moves forward, pressing against Ronan. He tangles his fingers in Ronan’s shirt and pulls him down for a long, hungry kiss, and when he finally pulls away, they’re both breathless.

Adam looks at Ronan, and that’s all it takes. “Take off your clothes and get on the bed.”

Ronan Lynch is not an obedient creature. He listens to Adam sometimes, but he doesn’t really take orders, and that’s never been an important part of their relationship. But right now, it seems like he’s more interested in seeing where this goes than in disagreeing just for the sake of it. He raises an eyebrow, smirks, and obeys.

Adam watches him pull his shirt off, unbutton his pants. His eyes trace the lines of Ronan’s tattoo, lines that his fingers have traced so many times before. He could touch it, he knows Ronan would let him, but he wants something else right now.

He unbuttons his dress shirt, drops it on the floor in a careless way he’d never have been able to once upon a time, when that shirt would have represented a couple day’s worth of wages. His pants follow, then his boxer-briefs. By now Ronan is laid out on the bed, naked as the day he was born, arms crossed behind his head. He looks casual, easy, but his eyes are on Adam and they’re hungry and bright.

Adam crosses to the bed, climbs up on it, slips a leg over him so he can straddle Ronan’s hips. Sometimes Adam likes to go slow, to take his time, to explore Ronan’s body and tease him and draw out every sensation he can. He likes to kiss the line of Ronan’s shoulders, leave bitemarks on his hipbones, make it last as long as he can until either he breaks or Ronan does.

He loves it. It’s not what he wants right now.

He leans in, feeling the slide of Ronan’s body against his, his half-hard cock. He kisses Ronan hard and hungry, and Ronan kisses back, his hand coming up to tangle in Adam’s hair. His other hand finds Adam’s hip, thumb tracing circles on the bare skin there, but he doesn’t move further. He’s letting Adam set the pace, letting Adam call the shots, which he doesn’t always do and which Adam doesn’t always want. But it’s what he wants right now, and the fact that Ronan knows that sparks a surge of desire, affection and appreciation and love all tied up with passion.

Drawing one hand down, Adam traces a line along Ronan’s body, down and further down, until he can wrap it around Ronan’s shaft. He catches Ronan’s quick gasp in his mouth, kisses him again, and then pulls back, balancing astride him. Adam watches Ronan watch his hands, and Adam will never really understand Ronan’s fascination, but he knows Ronan loves them - kissing his fingers, biting them gently, watching Adam jerk him off or jerk himself off. 

Adam uses it to his advantage, fingers wrapped around Ronan’s cock, sliding up and down until he’s decided Ronan is sufficiently hard. It doesn’t take long. By this point he’s hard too. He lets go and looks up, meeting Ronan’s eyes.

“I want you in me,” he says, and is rewarded by Ronan’s predatory smile. Ronan moves a little, hand wrapped around Adam’s hip as if to turn them over, but Adam stops him with a hand on his chest. “Not like that.”

“Oh yeah?” Ronan says, and his voice is thick with arousal. “You want me like this?” He clearly enjoys the thought, his erection not flagging at all.

Adam doesn’t say anything. He smiles, reaches over to the nightstand. It’s their bedroom, of course everything is there, and it’s barely a stretch at all to grab the lube. He uncaps the bottle and squeezes some onto his fingers. Any other time he’d like to go slow, give Ronan a show, but he’s too pent up with desire and stress and need right now.

He wraps a hand around Ronan, coating him, before reaching between his legs, fingering himself. The slick lube coats his hole, and his finger slides inside. He slips another in, moving his hand, fucking himself on his fingers. 

Ronan is watching, chest moving with tight breathes, and then he can’t take it anymore. He reaches out. “Can I touch you?”

“No,” Adam says, and pushes Ronan’s hand away. It’s practical - he’s already close, if Ronan starts touching him he’ll never be able to last long enough - but the fact that Ronan accepts it, that he asked, that he won’t touch Adam until Adam says so - 

Adam isn’t sure he wants to admit how sexy he finds that.

“Later,” he adds, breathless, and slides another finger into himself. It’s enough - or really it’s not, but he wants the sensation right now, he wants to feel Ronan. He wants it hard, and he wants it at his own pace, and Ronan is going to let him. 

He moves, positioning himself over Ronan, reaching down to wrap a hand around him, feeling the head of his cock press against the entrance to Adam’s body, both of them slick with lube, Ronan slick with pre-come as well. He looks at Ronan, the look on his face, the lust in his eyes, and Adam doesn’t know how many times he’s been confronted with the knowledge that Ronan _wants_ him, wants him like he’s never wanted anything else, but he doesn’t think it’ll ever get old. He doesn’t think it’ll ever feel like anything but a gift, a privilege, to be wanted like this.

He slides down onto Ronan, feeling that aching burn as Ronan enters him, the stretch of his body around Ronan’s cock, the sensation of Ronan inside him, filling him. Ronan groans, a choked-off ‘ _fuck_ ’, and he grabs Adam’s hips, steadying him, holding on to him.

Adam stays there for a moment, adjusting to it, watching Ronan looking at him until their eyes meet and he smiles and Ronan says “You look fucking hot with my dick in you, but if you don’t start moving I’m gonna turn you over and fuck you until you all your asshole coworkers ask you why you’re limping tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah?” Adam says, mirroring Ronan’s words earlier, and for a moment he considers that - it doesn’t sound half bad - but he likes this, he likes where he is right now, with Ronan under him, letting him call the shots.

He moves his hips, then. He starts out slow, loving the way it feels, Ronan sliding in and out of him, Adam fucking himself on Ronan’s cock. But he can’t keep it slow, he doesn’t _want_ to, he has too much tangled up feeling for that. Ronan’s hands on his hips keep him steady, and he presses his own hands against Ronan’s chest, his stomach, touching him and balancing himself and just feeling. Ronan is warm and solid and human beneath him. Adam could do this forever.

He rides Ronan hard, unrelenting and almost rough, pounding out his stress and frustrations while Ronan pounds into him. Ronan grips his hips hard enough to leave bruises, and Adam doesn’t need to ask if he likes it. The stuttering groans and intermittent strings of expletives tell the story on their own, and hearing that just spurs Adam on.

And god, Ronan’s so gorgeous when they’re like this, so utterly focused on him, like there’s nothing else in the world but Adam. Adam doesn’t want to look away, doesn’t want to miss a moment of him.

He tilts his hips, angles himself so Ronan’s length is brushing his prostate with each stroke, and then he has to bite back his own expletives. It’s so good, it’s just what he needed, he’s going hard enough that he knows he’ll be sore later but it doesn’t matter. This is what he wants, what he needs.

He’s so close. 

“You can touch me,” he manages to say, somehow, though his breath is coming fast and he can barely think. And Ronan hears him, moves one hand from his hip to his cock, strokes him hard. Once, twice. That’s all it takes.

His breath catches in his throat, and he thinks he cries out, but he’s not sure. His orgasm rolls through him like a tidal wave, cresting and breaking, the relief and release of it too much. Almost too much.

The aftershocks are still shuddering through Adam’s body, making it oversensitive and weak, but he moves his hips still. Ronan likes the way he looks when he comes - he’s said so before - and so it doesn’t take long before Ronan’s coming too, still inside him, his grip on Adam tightening again.

He rides Ronan through it, breathless and sensitive still, and then he moves. He feels Ronan slip out of him as Adam moves off him, letting himself fall onto the bed alongside Ronan. He feels limp and relaxed and full of pleasure, sated and warm, and once they’ve both had a moment to breathe he curls into Ronan’s side.

Ronan wraps an arm around him, turns his head to kiss Adam somewhat messily, still breathing hard. “ _Fuck_ , Parrish. You can do _that_ anytime you want.”

Adam laughs, tired, and moves just enough to press his face into Ronan’s shoulder. He’s pretty sure he could fall asleep like this. He kind of wants to, but he knows he needs to get up, shower, get his stuff ready for tomorrow, all those practical things he doesn’t want to do at all. But that’s what he gets for deciding that priority number one was fucking Ronan, so he’s just gonna have to deal.

“Sorry. Long day at work,” is all he says, and he knows that Ronan understands. Sometimes he just needs to let off some steam, work out some stress - sometimes Ronan does, too. Over the years they’ve both come to the conclusion that sex is a lot better for that than arguments or, in Ronan’s case, punching things.

Ronan elbows him, gently, and Adam knows that’s his way of telling Adam not to apologize. Adam kisses his shoulder and lets himself lay there for a moment longer, breathing in Ronan, the smell of sex and sweat and their room.

He works too hard, he knows that. It’s always been a part of who he is, a part of Adam Parrish, from their early days at Aglionby together until now. But these days he can balance it better, can devote time to the Barns and Opal and Ronan and, sometimes, magic. But the balance tilts, and those are the days he needs this.

He feels a million times better.


End file.
